


break the waves

by fadeastride



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeastride/pseuds/fadeastride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's easy, is what it is. It's easy, and nothing has ever been easy for Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	break the waves

**Author's Note:**

> God help me, this is probably the most pretentious fuckin thing I've written in over a decade.
> 
> Title from "Song for Someone" by The Frames.

The kitchen is warm, Bittle’s rolling out pie dough on the counter and Jack's hands aren't shaking as he basketweaves the strips of dough across the cherry filling. Bittle is talking about something, about nothing at all, and Jack's breathing is even without having to try. It's easy, is what it is. It's easy, and nothing has ever been easy for Jack, nothing good.

The only thing that has ever come easy to Jack is the falling apart. 

But when Bittle talks, everything in Jack's brain goes syrupy slow, quiets down to listen, and Jack knows that's not an accident. 

It’s been two months of holding silence inside him and he knows what that means, could let it tear him apart, but for now he’s content just to roll with it. He hasn’t felt this kind of calm in years and he wants to enjoy as much of it as he can before it inevitably goes away.

It always goes away, see.

Still, he’s got Bittle staring up at him, eyes wide, looking like Jack is worth more than what he can do on the ice, and Jack wants to live in the way that eases the tension in his chest. For a little while, he gets to.

Then Parse shows up and brings all the demons from under Jack’s bed with him.

Because what goes away comes back, and it comes back with teeth.

And Jack fights, because he has to, because he promised himself he would, if it ever came to this again. His voice wavers, but he tells Parse to get out, to stay away from his team.

Parse used to _be_ his team. Used to wrap his hands around Jack’s when they would jump and skitter. Used to count a rhythm Jack could breathe to, steady as a metronome, till they both fell asleep.

He’s not team anymore, though. And no matter what Parse wants, whatever he came here to ask, he’s never going to be team again. Jack made that promise to himself four years ago.

When Parse goes to leave, Bittle’s outside the door, because God’s plan for Jack has always been one of humility.

Or maybe humiliation. Jack’s not sure of the difference anymore.

Bittle tries to talk to him, but Jack can feel the way his blood is vibrating under his skin and he knows he’s of no use to anyone tonight. So he swings the door shut and slides down it, lets the panic wash in waves over him. In twenty minutes or so, he’ll get up. He’ll move to his bed and pass out in his clothes on top of the covers.

He’s done this dance before.

School breaks for Christmas and Jack doesn’t find the cookies until he’s in his bedroom in Montreal. Bittle hadn’t tried to talk to him before they all left, just shot him worried glances from across the Haus like he thought Jack might disintegrate.

Jack doesn’t do that, though. Not anymore.

But Bittle sneaked cookies into his bag because he cares, still cares, even when Jack has been in no way fair to him. It’s more than Jack deserves.

He treats Bittle better. He doesn’t lay his secrets down, but he veers closer to honesty than he has in a while, since Shitty got him crossfaded on the roof and asked him questions no one else had ever dared. 

Bittle starts to smile at him again. Jack’s not surprised anymore to find himself smiling back.

He calls Parse one night, late, but he knows Parse’ll answer.

“Jack, it’s two in the morning, are you okay? Should I -” His voice is sleep muffled but quickly gaining consciousness.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s okay,” Jack says. He hears Parse yawn from two time zones away.

“Why are you calling?”

Jack knows Parse can’t see him but he shrugs anyway. “I just needed to talk to you.”

“And it couldn’t wait till, oh, I don’t know, the sun was up?”

“You know I loved you, right?”

There’s a rustling of sheets before Parse answers. “Yeah. Yeah, I know you did.”

“And you know that I hated you, too? For a while there?”

“Yeah, Jack. I know that too.”

“It’s weird, not loving you anymore. It was the only thing that made sense to me back then.”

Parse huffs out a laugh. “Loving you never made any sense at all, but that was okay.”

Neither of them says anything for a minute before Parse clears his throat. “I know you love him.”

“Huh?”

“The blond kid, from the party. I saw you together. I know that face, Jack. I remember that face being directed at me.”

Jack hadn’t gotten that far yet, hadn’t thought it through, but he knows without examination that Parse is right.

“Kenny,” he says. “Kenny, shit.”

“Don’t ‘Kenny’ me. We’re not friends anymore, remember?”

They aren’t, and he does.

“Kent, I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

“You didn’t know how to do this the first time around. Neither of us did. This time, this time you’re going to tell the truth.”

“Okay,” he says. “Okay, I will.”

He doesn’t.

They play hockey and he doesn’t say a word. They get coffee and he watches Bittle’s mouth as he blows the steam across the top of his mug. They get dressed up and go to Lardo’s exhibition and not once does he let honesty fall from his lips.

Shitty figures it out, because Shitty knows him better than even Parse used to. He comes into Jack’s room, says, “You should tell him. I know you won’t, but you should.”

“And offer him what?” He clenches his fingers into fists, squeezes them until they _stop_.

“At this point, I think he’d take anything you’re willing to give him.”

Jack shakes his head. “He’s worth more than that.”

“He is,” Shitty agrees. “He wants you anyway.”

The semester lurches forward and Jack finds himself at the end of something again.

He’s sitting on his bed, half-packed boxes strewn across the floor, when Bittle knocks on his open door.

“Can I come in?”

Jack nods, so Bittle perches himself on the bed close enough that their knees touch.

After a minute, Bittle says, “You’re a lot braver than you think you are.”

“Hmm?”

“I know you only think about the times you’ve been scared, or the things you messed up, but you’ve been brave, too. And right. And good.”

It’s a lot, knowing that Bittle believes that, makes Jack wonder if it could be true.

“You’ve been so brave for so long, Jack, and I think it’s my turn.” He takes Jack’s face in his hands, leans in to kiss his mouth. No one’s ever been gentle with Jack like this and Jack doesn’t know what to do with it but kiss back. They’re sitting on Jack’s bed in broad daylight, with the bedroom door wide open. Anyone could see. And Jack doesn’t panic at all.

When Bittle draws back, he’s smiling. “Okay?” he asks, and Jack nods. “Good.”

They sit for a while, Bittle’s hands still on Jack’s jaw when he says, “I’m willing to be quiet about it, if that’s what you want.”

“What about what _you_ want?”

Bittle lifts a shoulder dismissively. “I want a chance to be with you.”

And maybe that’s good enough. Maybe Jack can let something be good enough for once.

Bittle’s looking at him like maybe they’ll get it right this time.

God, but he’s going to try.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm embarrassing [here](http://fadeastride.tumblr.com) on a daily basis.


End file.
